Rebuilding George Weasley
by greaserslady
Summary: Dahlia was just looking for a job when she found a depressed George Weasley in his joke shop. As she works at getting the shop back in order, she also works at George's heart. George/OC


**A/N: I know I need to update my other stories but you don't understand how my brain works. I've been fighting this story for a while now but my brain is MAKING me write it. I'm sorry, I have no control over it.**

**Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoy this story. I've been wanting to write a George Weasley fic for a long time and I'm excited to get it started. Just a little note, I'm bumping the timeline up to present-time (2013) because it's easier for me to relate to. I was in elementary school in the mid-to-late nineties so the memories are vague. haha. Also, this chapter is short because I'm just getting a feel for the HP-verse (first fic in HP, yay!) and I like to set the scene.**

* * *

The wooden door at Ninety-Three Diagon Alley creaked open as Dahlia North slowly entered the dusty joke shop. She'd passed by it at least a dozen times in the past year, ever since Voldemort was defeated and she felt it safe to finally move to England. It had been her dream to live in a little cottage in the English countryside for as long as she could remember. It was still a dream of hers, considering she currently resided in a tiny flat above a Muggle bar in London. Not the nicest area in London either, unfortunately.

"Hello?" Dahlia called, not seeing any employees, or customers for that matter, in the immediate area. It looked as if no one had been in the shop for ages, let alone cleaned it. There was a thick layer of dust on the all of the products that she could see on the shelves around her. Only a few of the many lights were on, making the shop seem incredibly eerie, and she had noticed that a few birds had built nests on the large man holding a top hat in front of the building. She thought it all looked very sad, which was ironic since it was supposed to be a joke shop. She was turning to leave when she heard a door in the back open and close, then footsteps coming towards her.

"Hello," said a young man with the brightest ginger-colored hair she'd ever seen in her life. He offered a pitiful smile but it didn't even come close to meeting his eyes. "Welcome to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. My name is George. How can I help you?" The speech sounded rehearsed and like it was the very last thing George wanted to say.

As Dahlia glanced around the shop she could tell that it was built by someone with a great passion for having fun and making people happy, but she saw neither of those things in the man before her. His hair, though beautiful in color, lacked any shine and was in need of a trim. There was stubble covering the bottom half of his face and his skin itself looked as though it was desperately craving some sunshine. What had happened to make him that way?

"I'm actually looking for a job," Dahlia said, holding her resume out in front of her. "My name is Dahlia North. I moved to London almost a year ago and I've been working at a small Muggle pub but the pay isn't really great and I could use some extra money because I'd like to buy a house or at least get a nicer apartment." Dahlia finally stopped talking and chewed her lower lip nervously. "I'm sorry. I ramble when I get anxious."

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George felt the corner of his mouth twitch just slightly in amusement at Dahlia's babbling. This girl had to be just a little mad to want to work in a shop like his, especially in the state it was currently in. He took the resume from her hand but didn't look at it. Instead, he took a moment to really look her over. She was a right fancy bird, that was for sure. And he had to admit, he liked her American accent. Her light blond hair contrasted with her slightly tanned skin nicely, though most of it was hidden beneath her winter hat and scarf.

Was it winter already? George glanced through the large windows behind Dahlia and saw a light snow coating the cobbled street. He could have sworn Halloween was just last week. Then again, time did seem to slip past him faster and faster these days. The firewhiskey didn't help.

Dahlia cleared her throat and George looked back down at her. Her crystal blue eyes were filled with worry as they looked back up at him, her head cocked slightly to the side. Her facial features reminded him of his sister-in-law, Fleur; petite and utterly gorgeous.

"Well Ms. North, as you can see, I don't really have a need for any employees right now," George finally said, looking around at the empty shop. He was lucky if he had five customers a day lately. Not that he blamed anyone; it was his own fault for not inventing any new products or even having the will power to clean. This was no where near the fun place it used to be back when Fred was alive. "And no offense, but I would want an employee who wanted to work here because they had a genuine interest in the products. Not just because they needed 'extra money'." George didn't even recognize the voice coming out of his mouth. Never before would he be downright rude to someone in his shop, especially a lass like Dahlia.

* * *

Dahlia was taken aback by George's snide comment, but she was quick with a retort. "Well no offense to you, Mr. Weasley, but it doesn't look like anyone has shown a genuine interest in these products in quite some time." She walked over to a shelf stacked high with boxes of Extendable Ears and ran a gloved finger over them. Turning, she held up her hand to show George the thick coating of dust that had turned her glove gray.

George didn't have a reply, he just opened and closed his mouth a couple times before lowering his eyes from hers. She was right, after all. He had lost his passion long ago.

Seeing that she had won the argument, Dahlia took off her gloves, hat and scarf and set them on the counter, followed by her coat. "I can clean, take stock, keep the books in order, help customers, take care of whatever these are," she said, picking up a pink Pygmy Puff. "And help you get this place back into the swing of things before the holidays. And I can start right now." She placed the Puff back into his cage and turned to George, her hands on her hips. Dahlia definitely knew how to put her foot down when the time called for it. Plus she really needed the money and this poor sap in front of her needed her more than he knew.

"Have you ever met my mum?" George asked, a smirk trying to work its way onto his face.


End file.
